Duncan, more for the book here. I like to think that this section will give some insight into the kind of innovative tactics and out of the box thinking that have got me where I am today, oh, and there’s a bit on Shepherd going as well. Of course what with Celtic, Juventus and now Sampdoria taken care of that’s practically a Champions League qualifying group, bet that lot at the FA are wishing they’d given me the England gig now. Anyway, had another thought on the title: ‘A footballing renaissance, how Big Sam brought glamour back to the beautiful game’ – what do you think?

It didn’t take me long to work out that the new regime wasn’t like the old one. They kept holding meetings in odd places for a start. The day he told me Shepherd was out Mort had arranged to meet me at a building site in Walkergate. As I arrived he was watching some concrete being poured, an oddly satisfied look on his face

“How are you Big Sam?”

“Not bad, Austria was good, Spain, not so good”

“I heard. Mr Ashley was most disappointed when you and Shepherd failed to come back with a world cup winner.”

“Well, it was a tall order. A World Cup Winner for no money, that’s some ask”

“All the same. Mr Ashley was not happy, not sure he had the right man on the job. I’m afraid we’re not going to be seeing much more of Mr Shepherd now. Mr Ashley isn’t really one for second chances.”

“Oh, right, but he’s still happy with me isn’t he? I mean I’ve only just got here, it takes time to build things up you know.”

“Yes Sam, he understands that. And there was one thing you always could say about Shepherd; he made good foundations.”

Then he just went back to watching the builders. I’d expected more, maybe a celebratory send off, a few pasties and a glass of champagne; but when I asked I just got a memo saying Freddie was taking a much needed rest and wouldn’t be getting up for some time. That’s the thing about football, it’s a dog eat dog world and once you’re gone, you’re forgotten.

Anyway, I had football matches to be getting on with. It’s always a thrill for a manager when he gets to play against one of the big sides, and we’d got two of the best lined up for our pre-season. First up, Celtic, they’re a funny side Celtic. A massive club, but managed by what I think they call up there ‘a wee man’; I’ve never understood that, how a club like that could be managed by a guy so small. Still, when you know their weakness you’ve got to go for it.

“Right lads” I told the boys before the kick off, “we know this is going to be a tough game, but we’ve got to use our advantage, and in this game that’s going to be height. I’m 6’3” and wee Gordon’s 4’5”. What that means is that when he’s seated in the dug out his eye level’s only 3’ off the ground. That’s why I need you Carr to hug the touchline. Specifically the touchline right in front of the dugout, I don’t want him seeing a thing that’s going on, and if anyone’s got the physique for this it’s you. If he can’t get his messages on to the pitch they’ll be knackered.”

Now some of the lads looked sceptical at this, and I appreciate that it’s often hard for players to adjust to new tactics. But the ‘small man spoiler’ as I call it had aided me on many occassions. It even played a key role in Bolton’s many results against Arsenal; you see even though Wenger is tall he’s far too posh to stand up at games. As a result we were able to screen him with Ivan Campo, a tactic that worked even better after we brushed out his hair till it reached 2’ in all directions.

Against Celtic it worked like a charm. When we scored our first Strachan was still trying to work out who we’d got on the pitch was telling McManus to ‘mark that big Aussie bloke, he must be out there somewhere!’ when Martins got the first one. Once we’d got one up I confused him further

“Hey Owen” I yelled “Hang out wide on the right and get at the fullback”

“Watch out for Owen” he screamed, jumping up and down to try and see round Carr

“Give it to Dyer, through the middle” I told them, behind me in the dugout Kieron looked confused.

“Sit in there in the centre Donati, pick up Dyer” he shouted.

Late on in the match he’d just about worked out what was going on, and Brown got a goal back. With the chips down I did the only thing I could to keep him confused.

“Get stripped Harper, I’m sending you on to play up front”

Now Harper looked surprised, but when they saw him getting kitted up the Celtic bench went mental. Strachan who’d been trying to work out our formation in his notebook just threw it down.

After the match Strachan knew what I’d done. He even mentioned it to the media, in a roundabout kind of way “I am not going away a confused manager” he said trying to save what was left of his pride, but he’d been confused since he arrived. I hear they’ve ordered a high chair now for the dugouts at Celtic in case anyone else tries this, but it doesn’t matter. If we come up against each other again I’ve got plenty more tricks for the wee man.

The game against Juventus was a whole different kettle of fish. For a start there was no way the Tinkerman was going to fall for something like the small man spoiler. Still, if there’s one thing Italian sides can’t cope with it’s robust English physicality.

“I want you right up in their faces” I told the lads

“I want you big and strong at the back, I want you to get stuck in in midfield, I want to see blood, sweat and Italians flying a mile in the air, and this is the important bit, if you get into their box and one of them so much as breathes on you I want you to go down like a lead balloon.”

Well things started well, with the lads sticking to the instructions and getting stuck in everywhere it mattered and Milner remembering what he’d been told to win a pen. Luque stuck it away, but then crocked himself and I sent on Carrol.

Well two minutes later he’d done the business and whacked in a second and we were cruising. Then he was played in and I watched him bearing down on the keeper. Now Andy’s a big lad and you could see he just wanted to get to the ball, get into the box and fall down like a good striker should. Buffon though knows his stuff, he knew there was nothing he could do once Carrol got into the box, so he took the only option he had and flattened him two yards outside it. At that stage we all knew that Buffon was going off but for some reason the Ref bottled it.

I had a word with Andy after the game

“Andy”

“Huh?”

“I just want you to know you did the right thing”

“Ugh?”

“Now, if you don’t mind I’ve got to go and see the referee”

Because if there’s one thing a referee can’t take it’s robust English Physicality. It’s not just the players who’ve got to get in shape for the season you know.